Life
by Captain Tomate
Summary: Their story was one that had started out with three dingy New York apartments, a small coffee shop which was possibly the worst in existence, and two easily rattled upstairs neighbors. Really, that makes it sound like the normal life of any person living in New York, but all they know is that their crazy, meshed together lives are anything but ordinary. [Friends AU / Hiatus]
1. Pilot: In Which There Is Introductions

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this until I had at least three chapters pre-written, but here it is. This is just a little practice for stories with multiple intertwining storylines of different characters, as well as having the nice sitcom flare that I adore.**

 **The POV is present time, though it might be a bit wonky because I'm not the best at writing in that format, but just bare with me. As it is, this is a Friends!AU with the Bad Friends Foursome and company. Won't this be _fun?_**

 **I don't believe there is any other things I have to say, so I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

 _Pilot: In Which There Is Introductions_

 _Their story was one that had started out with three c*appy New York apartments, a small coffee shop which is possibly the worst in existence, and two easily rattled upstairs neighbors. Really, that makes it sound like the normal life of any person living in New York, but all they know is that their crazy, meshed-together lives are anything but ordinary._

* * *

It had started out with three separate, dingy apartments, all of them situated just above an always near-empty coffee shop and below the living quarters of an easily pissed-off Austrian and his moody wife. Really, that makes their lives sound as normal as any New Yorkers', except for the fact that they're anything but _ordinary_.

It's a lot more like this:

Gilbert moves in first. His apartment (Which just so happens to be room number 13. It was basically doomed to be a living hellhole from the start) is universally known by everyone as the Worst. Still, the albino, self-proclaimed Prussian says that his 'awesomeness' is enough to make the room livable. He's more than just a little wrong on that. Every electronic and-or furniture item instantly breaks once brought into the room. Even a plastic school chair manages to crumble apart when introduced to the apartment. Gilbert settles for patched-up old beanbags as furniture and playing with a few old Tamogatchi toys (which cry out more than what should really be possible) instead of a TV.

Then Francis arrives. His living space (number 14) is better than Gilbert's, but not by much. His chairs actually manage to stay together and his television works, despite the horrible connection that leaves almost every channel a static-ridden mess. The only channels that actually work are the all-day news broadcast and some Spanish channel that only plays cheesy telenovelas or soap operas with no real plot. Francis chooses to watch the romantic telenovelas and, occasionally, the soap operas. Although he thinks the latter sucks.

It's a total mistake that Antonio is implemented into their lives. The Spaniard wasn't even looking for an apartment to live in, but somehow wound up being roommates with Gilbert. What made it all the more surprising was that the albino wasn't even looking for a person to room with him. None of them really remembers what happened, not even Antonio, but they just shrug it off and go on with their lives. Really, the brunette doesn't even 'live' in Gilbert's apartment. He just drifts from Gilbert's, to Francis', and occasionally winds up in the once-empty room 15.

That room became occupied, only two short months after the accidental inclusion of Antonio, by the whirlwind of chaos who crashed into their lives in the human form of one Lovino Vargas. Antonio had managed to (once again) get into room 15. (Again, another thing they can't explain about Antonio. Room 15 was _always_ locked and the owner of the building had even lost the extra key a few years back.) Only to come back out with a bleeding lip and a missing tooth. It seemed that Lovino had just moved in the night before and Antonio had been clumsy and stepped on the Italian while the young man was sleeping.

Lovino makes sure they all know he hates them, but still joins their group almost every day.

After their main group of four is established, more people just keep appearing. A thirteen-year-old kid shows up in Gil's apartment one day, lounging on one of the beanbags in the room's farthest corner, playing on the albino's newest Tamogatchi and listening to music so loudly he doesn't hear Antonio's screams of surprise. The kid turns out to be Gilbert younger brother, Ludwig, who had _never been mentioned before._ They really have no idea how Ludwig had gotten into the apartment (after all, the kid didn't have a key, to their knowledge) or even if they had just never noticed him being there before. It wouldn't really be surprising. Ludwig is quiet, though he has such strange moments that they just don't question his existence as the third person 'living' in Gil's place.

No one is actually the true occupants of their own places. Francis wakes up to find Gilbert or Ludwig, sometimes both of them, cleaning his kind of messy place like maniacs, or Gilbert walks into the kitchen to see Lovino and Francis battling it out for their place at his stove (the only thing that really works in the d*mn apartment, but always makes the albino worry about it causing a gas leak because he swears that the pipes are rusting away.) They're more like an extended family living in a small space.

Then, there is the couple on the floor above them. All they really know is that the two are young and recently married, as well as Roderich is working as a lobby pianist while his wife Elizaveta is, for all they know, a trained assassin who has mastered the art of using a frying pan as a weapon in such a way that Rapunzel from Tangled would be proud. They were the lucky ones who got the one full-floor flat that had accidently been constructed as a mistaken add-on to the building. Gilbert says that they're douches, but the rest of them know that he's just jealous of their pristine living quarters.

And, of course, there is the Queen's Coffee Shoppe built below their floor. They all have different opinions on it. Francis keeps trying to convince the owner to let him bake some _real_ pastries; Gilbert dumps almost all of the shop's creamer into one cup of coffee, not because he thinks it tastes bad, but because he only really likes the creamer and just doesn't have the guts to drink it straight; Antonio has a personal vendetta against the owner for the time the Brit had smashed his model (toy) Spanish Armada to nothing more than splinters of wood and has been at war with the Brit ever since; Lovino, ever the optimist, simply says that both the coffee and the food taste like c*ap.

When Gilbert snarks to him about how does he know what c*ap tastes like, Lovino promptly shuts him up with the threat of a spork to the eyes.

Those two have a really odd relationship. Everyone does, really. Then again, they are all odd people.

Francis has tried to be more things then what should be possible for a twenty-four year old. He's tried to be a model, an actor, a musician, a painter, an auctioneer, a hairdresser, and a chef. So far his job as a chef has been the longest to last. He has this weird love-hate relationship with the British owner of the Queen's Coffee Shoppe, in which Arthur cusses Francis out and the Frenchman just says 'I love you too.' Yeah, Francis turns almost everything into a situation calling for love, even claiming to be everyone's big brother.

Gilbert is...he's okay. Egocentric and pushy, but okay. He can drink someone under the table and just keep going until a full keg is empty, then go onto the next. It's truly a miracle that he hasn't had alcohol poisoning yet. No one knows what his job is, except Ludwig, but it wouldn't surprise anyone if he was behind a bar counter cleaning the glasses. He doesn't sleep much, unless Ludwig or Francis force him into bed and make him stay there until he's slept a full eight hours. He doesn't like sleeping, unless it's the occasional nap to keep him running. There's just too much to do and so little time to do it.

Antonio...he's... _Antonio_. There's no others words to really describe him. He still hasn't fully grasped how to think in English and usually ends up blabbering in Spanish because his mouth runs faster than his brain. He's fun and open and cheery, but can be scary when he puts his mind to it. They know he's a part-time performer (for what, exactly, they don't know) and plays as a street musician most of the time. Antonio is, in general, a big ball of energy. (It also seems that he never encountered the crucial part of growing up where people actually _grow up_. He does some of the most embarrassing things and genuinely enjoys it.) Francis and Gilbert and him click like childhood friends, while Lovino thinks he's an idiot.

Lovino is blunt. Lovino is sarcastic. Lovino is...sometimes found sleeping with Antonio. Usually because Antonio _still manages to get into his apartment_ and slips into Lovino's bed. They don't really care anymore, anything belonging to a person does not truly belong to that person anymore once they move into their little second-floor community. Except for Gilbert's bed. Gilbert has a weird thing about sharing his bed with anyone other than his little brother. None of them know what Lovino does for a living, but Antonio says that he has a lot of pistols on his walls. Empty pistols, but pistols all the same. (Gilbert is careful when going into Lovino's apartment, especially since Lovino doesn't like him for some reason.)

Ludwig is actually one of the more mature ones. Not the most mature, since he's still a teenager, but mature all the same. He doesn't have a real job yet, but he has a paper route and he's happy with it. There's something a little off about him, but none of them really care; there's something off about all of them. Ludwig doesn't cry much and Ludwig doesn't smile much; Gilbert says that his younger brother has his own brand of emotions, ones that don't show on his face much. Only Gilbert knows where Ludwig actually lives, but the kid is at the albino's place 99.99% of the time so no one really asks.

All in all, they have three apartments that have almost molded together into a single household, a prissy Austrian pianist and his scary Hungarian wife in the flat above them, a grumpy British 'gentleman' who serves what is arguably the worst coffee ever, but in a place where they still spend an alarming amount of time in.

It works for them. No one knows how it does, but it works all the same.


	2. Episode 1: In Which There Is A Blackout

**A/N: I have re-written so many parts of this in such a short period of time that I am _this close_ to screaming. But, I actually had fun writing this, it was cool to form how a "normal" day would go for these guys.**

 **I'm trying to get better at this wacky POV (I'm so used to writing in past tense...) so hopefully any tense slip-ups are permitted for now, plus it kind of throws me off on how I pace so...just tell me what I need to work on with that, if you don't mind. Also, I hope precious Lovi isn't too OOC in this: I feel like I made him a bit too...I dunno, cuddly? That's just how I imagine he'd be with kids. And, yes, Lars and Emma (also known as the best big sister _ever_ ) have their ages mixed up. I might go somewhere with that.**

 **Hopefully this is just as good as the first chapter. I honestly adore each of you who reviewed/favorited/followed and I hope to see you all in the next update. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

 _Episode One: In Which There Is A Blackout_

 _The air conditioning goes out, Lovino gets stuck in an elevator, Antonio and Gilbert eat tomatoes and ice cream, Francis is there, and Ludwig takes a bath._

* * *

It's a scorching hot summer's day when the power goes out. That itself isn't so bad, since almost nothing electronic works anyway, so they just kind of ignore it. Until the owner of the building decides that it's a wonderful idea to _shut off the backup generator._ Again, not so bad in itself, but then there's the fact that that generator was attached to almost every single air conditioner in the building. So, they are left without any way to cool down except for the already melting popsicles in Francis's not-so-freezing freezer.

Gilbert decides to usurp the whole couch and whine about the heat while Ludwig has to sit on the floor, playing on the one Tamogatchi toy he seems to have claimed for his own and restraining from smacking his big brother over the head with a pillow. Francis just changes his long sleeved shirt and tight jeans into a casual T-shirt and shorts, before laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling with quiet misery.

No one knows where their resident chaos demon known as Antonio Fernández-Carriedo is, but they know that he's probably lurking around one of the apartments. And, after a few minutes, as well as Gilbert commenting on the Spaniard's absence, who would happen to appear other than the smiley brunette himself, a piece of pizza in his mouth and a whole box teetering dangerously in his unoccupied hand? He mumbles something around the slice of bread and sauce and cheese, which sounds like 'Lovi's got power,' but they can't be too sure.

Francis finally decides to sit up when Antonio plops down onto the carpet beside the Frenchman, somehow managing not to drop the gigantic cardboard box he's holding. "You get any of that nasty grease on my carpet, so help m-?!" Francis is cut off by a piece of pizza getting stuffed into his mouth by Antonio. Grease drips from the slice and onto the Frenchman's shirt, making him give a little whine before finally taking hold of the pizza and biting into it properly.

Curiously, as if he had just processed what Antonio had said, Ludwig looks up from the girly virtual pet in his hand while Francis struggles with the pizza's grease, turning his attention to the giggling Spaniard with a raised eyebrow, "Did you just say that Lovino has power in his apartment?" A head of silver hair perks up, all complaints falling to an abrupt stop as Gilbert focuses his scarlet gaze on Antonio, who promptly gives a nod and takes a breath to speak...

But he can barely vocalize his positive response before their group's only albino is already across the room and halfway out the door, shouting behind him, "What are we waiting for?! Let's go to the grumpy little tomato fairy's place!"

* * *

None of them (except Antonio) have been inside Lovino's apartment before. Of course, Francis or Gilbert had caught sight of the inside once or twice while searching for their Spanish friend, but they had only been able to snag a small sliver of cream walls and plush grey carpet before Lovino all but threw Antonio's still drowsy form out of the door and slammed it closed, the telltale sound of locks being clicked into place letting them know that Lovino _wasn't in the mood for their sh*t_.

So, Gilbert takes an extra long time to examine the numerous firearms that are mounted on the spitfire Italian's walls, wondering how Lovino even got all of them into the building. There is way more than just the pistols that Antonio talks about when they ask him about Lovino's place. The guns are clearly antiques, from simple dart guns to the longest rifle the albino has ever seen, and from all different manufacturers. Eventually the albino is broken from his careful study of the guns when Francis gives the offhand comment of "My little cousin would love to see these."

Gilbert decides that he _really_ doesn't want to know, moving away from the Wall of Weapons (As he's decided to call it) and goes to sit down on the couch with Ludwig, who is invested in his Tamogatchi once more. Fiddling with the hem of his shirt as a thick silence falls, Gilbert's red eyes scan the rest of the apartment. A small backup generator (also known as their saving grace) is rumbling away in the corner, but that's just about it, except for the house phone sitting on the little bedside table thing.

Snorting in amusement (really? A house phone? How old was Lovino, fifty-six?) the albino reaches over to interfere with his brother's game, quickly tugging his hand back with an angry huff as Ludwig smacks it away. And he smacks _hard_.

"Tomatoes!" Antonio suddenly shouts, breaking the awkward silence. from his place of kneeling in front of the fridge, taking out a huge bag of said food item with a huge grin that eats his entire face. It's well known amongst all that both Lovino and Antonio have an unhealthy obsession with the plump little fruit (Can an obsession with something good for you be unhealthy? Meh, probably...) and Gilbert knows that if Antonio eats even one tomato Lovino will be even more pissed off than usual for at least a week...

Eh, it's Antonio's funeral.

"Toni," The Spaniard looks up from his careful inspection of a particularly round tomato at Gilbert's voice, tilting his head and blinking. Gilbert snickers, "Bet you can't eat all of those tomatoes by the time Lovino gets home."

Green eyes look at the bag, before going back to Gilbert. Antonio's smile is terrifying as he puts the bag down and grabs something else out of the fridge. A bottle of vintage wine. "Let's make this a game! Whoever can finish their respective food items faster is the winner!" he hums as he opens the tomato bag and tears the cork from the wine bottle. "After all, I think you have something in your apartment that can count as a challenge in itself, something you wouldn't want to go bad, si?"

Puckering his lips into a thinking pout, Gilbert asks, "What's the stakes?"

Antonio thinks for a second, before shrugging easily, "The loser owes the winner a favor: Whatever the winner requests, the loser _has_ to do. No exceptions."

"Fine. Just know that _I'm_ going to make _you_ do one of the most embarrassing things ever when I win." Gilbert responds, narrowing his eyes before quickly leaving the apartment, returning a few short minutes afterwards with an armful of half-full gallons of ice cream and half of a six-pack. Hey, the only things that will really go 'bad' if left in their apartment is those two items (since not many people like to have melted ice cream and their beer at room temperature) and Gilbert, Antonio and Ludwig mostly have only dry goods and things that don't need refrigeration in their apartment.

Ludwig, once again, looks up from his game and to his brother's 'food' as the albino sets all of the cartons on the ground. Rolling his eyes, the younger brother reaches over and takes the single carton of rainbow sherbet from Gilbert's stockpile. "I believe this one is mine..." Blue eyes scan the rest of the ice cream flavors, "and the pistachio. That's mine to."

Huffing, childishly, Gilbert practically throws the (somehow) still-freezing ice cream into his little brother's face, "Here, West, I don't like the total unawesomeness of pistachio anyway."

It seems that Francis has finally come over from the Wall of Weapons because he hands both Ludwig and Gilbert a spoon, before whispering to the only other blonde in the room, "This will be an _exciting_ contest." Ludwig snorts, amused by the pure sarcasm dripping off Francis' tone. An exciting contest, indeed.

 **-X-**

It's in the middle of Antonio's tenth (or is it eleventh?) large tomato and Gilbert's second half gallon of ice cream (moose tracks) that Lovino calls the preoccupied Spaniard's phone. It is safe to say that the Italian is surprised when Francis answers instead of the phone's owner. "Wine b*stard?"—ah, the regular _charming_ greeting of their precious Italian—"Where's the _idiota_?"

Gilbert shrieks something about brain freeze from his place on the carpet. Francis ignores it in favor of telling Lovino about the contest, not forgetting to mention that their albino headache, who had issued the challenge, is currently rolling around on the floor in overdramatic pain so that the temperamental shorty will have mercy on Antonio's sweet, tomato-loving soul. Lovino, instead of blowing up, just snorts, "Those tomatoes were going to expire soon anyway, let the sunshine b*stard have 'em."

Francis can _hear_ Lovino's nonchalant shrug, "Also," The Italian suddenly adds, "send me a picture of Gilbert's situation. I want to have it as my phone's lock screen so I can laugh when I look at it." From the tone of his voice, Lovino is _not_ kidding about laughing at it. Though, he probably isn't serious about having it as his lock screen: The day Lovino Vargas has a picture of Gilbert as any form of phone background is the day Francis decides to give up on bugging Arthur. Which is to say, never.

"Will do, _mon petite ami._ " Lovino gives a small grumble about not being small before Francis asks a question of his own, "So, tell me, where in the world are you?"

Silence is all that comes from the other side of the line before Lovino gives an irritated sigh, "The elevator. I'm stuck in the f***ing elevator..." Francis isn't sure how to react to that. (He knows laughing will hurt Lovino's pride, but so will any sort of sympathy. He's really at a loss.) Luckily, Lovino continues after his brief trail-off, "And there's this really creepy little kid staring at me. Like, he's just standing in the corner _staring._ "

The Frenchman's resolve to be a good friend for the moment shatters when he hears Lovino's voice actually _tremble in fear_ from some little kid looking at him. It is amidst Francis' loud laughter that Lovino hangs up, probably blushing from ear to ear in embarrassment. As soon as the laughing fit calms, however, Antonio's phone suddenly gives a little 'ding' sound and the symbol for a new message appears on the phone.

It's from Lovino, so Francis knows that Antonio won't mind him looking at it, but he promptly drops the phone with a horrified expression when he opens up the message. The Italian wasn't kidding when he said the kid was _creepy._ Really, he didn't look any older than six or maybe seven, but the picture shows that his green eyes are molded into a blank glare and he holds toy of Miffy the Bunny in a death hold around its plushy neck. It wouldn't be so scary if the elevator wasn't so dim. The Frenchman looks at the text that accompanies the picture.

 _Seriously. Look at the demon child. - Lovinito_ _️_

 **I just hope you have some holy water, _mon ami_. - Antonio**

* * *

Lovino Vargas is a man who deals with a lot of c*ap every single day of his life. It's basically mandatory for him to, ever since his Grandfather decided he could "build character" by being dropped off in the middle of Central Park with only the clothes on his back and a lousy twenty to his name. Not to mention that Romulus dropped him off at midnight. _While he was sleeping_. Yep, the old man definitely got caretaker of the year award right there.

 _Totally._

See the sarcasm?

It is true that the older Italian man wasn't wrong with thinking it would change his grandson. Lovino managed to build a life for himself and make some friends, but he still deals with all forms (usually from those same friends) of hell on a daily basis. Like that time Antonio managed to get into trapped in the laundry chute. Yeah, that was a hard one to explain to _everyone._ And, right now, Lovino is up yet another raging stream without a paddle.

The kid still hasn't moved from his place in corner of the elevator, and is currently staring at Lovino so intently that the Italian can't help but to stare back with equal force. They had been at this creepy game of Stare Down for around a half an hour. What was embarrassing was that the kid was actually 'winning.' Even when Lovino had taken a picture, the little boy with the bunny didn't flinch (which was surprising, to say the least, since the camera's flash was still on) and just...stood there. Normal children, Lovino imagined, would either be crying for their caretakers or talking animatedly with the total stranger they were trapped with when stuck in an elevator.

Eh, whatever. He had already established the kid was an odd one, why not just go with that?

Sliding down to the floor, Lovino pulls out his phone and presses some random app. As luck would have it, he had accidently pressed on Netflix, his screen filling with all sorts of TV or movies titles and the like. Shrugging, Lovino selects his queue and starts to scroll through all of the shows that he never really got around to watching. Finally, he just choses one at random, closing his eyes and jabbing at his screen.

Slowly opening his eyes again, Lovino wilts as he sees the candy-colored show he had chosen. _My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic_...D*mn it Feli. Sighing, the Italian slumps and thinks about the select words he plans to shout at his little brother when they see each other again. If Feliciano wasn't helping him pay, then he wasn't allowed on Lovino's account: That was the _rule_.

Exiting out (yeah, he didn't want to watch that...right now...) Lovino huffs on crosses his arm over his chest, setting his still-on phone down on the ground beside him. Great, there was nothing good to watch...At least, something good that wouldn't have the kid trapped in the elevator with him hear cussing and other stuff. As soon as he thought of the boy with him, sudden, little footsteps make Lovino look up. The boy was right beside him now, tilting his head as he looks at one of the shows in Lovino's queue.

" _Zuster_ watches that one." The boy suddenly mutters, making Lovino jump slightly as a little finger is jabbed at the box reading _Once Upon A Time_. "I like the Huntsman a lot, but then they killed him off..." The kid plops down next to Lovino, looking up at the man. His green eyes were no longer fixed into a glare, they instead sparkled with...was that _expectance?_ What did the kid expect from him...?

Lovino decides to go with his gut on what he thinks the child wants, "Uhm. I guess my favorite is the Wicked Witch—Zelena's her name, right?—I mean, being overshadowed is something I could relate to..." As his words trail off as he rubs the back of his head. He can't help but feel stupid. Had he really just mentioned his problems to a _toddler_ of all people? That s*it is meant for psychiatrists.

The boy just hums, before speaking again, "My name is Lars." Well, at least he now has a name to give the kid.

"Lovino." The Italian introduces himself in return, before they lapse into slightly comfortable silence. He can't help but to catch the way Lars' green eyes are locked onto the phone screen, on the show they had just talked about, and he decides to be nice. Sliding his Galaxy over to Lars, Lovino mutters, "Here, squirt, don't drop it." Lovino's genuinely surprised by how...elated Lars looks. The boy has an expression of a man who had just been given a block of gold and treats the phone like its delicate glass as he presses on the screen to begin an episode.

As Lovino looks on, watching the episode and giving funny commentary that borders on sarcastic at the appropriate moments as Lars makes his own. Soon, they're both laughing, and he decides that maybe this kid isn't so bad after all.

* * *

After two hours, numerous brain freezes, a total of three melted ice cream gallons, and Gilbert crying over those three gallons, Antonio emerges as the winner of the contest and both of them are as drunk as hell. Gilbert somehow manages to get under the couch to weep for one reason or another and Antonio lays on the tiled floor of the kitchen, mumbling something about the ceiling being pretty and humans who are countries and other possibly concerning things Francis doesn't quite catch. He really hopes that those almost-expired tomatoes didn't somehow throw the Spaniard into some kind of weird conscious food/alcohol coma or get him into some odd state of being high.

Gilbert's whining about his 'precious little brother' not being in the room to comfort him, and, as if in a form of response, Ludwig suddenly walks into the room, wearing a pair of his pajamas (when did he bring _those_ over?) and is in the middle of drying off his hair with a towel when Francis looks over at him. "Lovino's going to be upset that you used his bathtub." The Frenchman comments, raising an eyebrow and looking Ludwig over.

"Who said I used his?" Is all that Ludwig says in response, before promptly going to pick up all of the empty ice cream cartons and the discarded plastic bag that once held tomatoes, ignoring his older brother's pleas for a hug from under the darkness of the couch, "I'm going to throw these away in the trash chute, have fun with the drunkards." Francis can barely blink before the younger boy is already out of the room.

A groan comes from Gilbert's makeshift shelter; the kind of groan someone makes when they're about to throw up. And, sure enough, the albino under the couch manages to crawl out and rushes to bathroom in about three seconds. Francis huffs in annoyance as he hears Gilbert empty the contents of his stomach. "I'm not cleaning the bathroom, so you're on your own, Gil!" he shouts, not caring if his refusal to clean makes Gilbert whine like a spoiled child again, as he picks up Ludwig's abandoned Tamogatchi and starts to fiddle with it.

And, of course, when Gilbert comes back he begins to groan again. Antonio's long since passed out, snoring on the floor, and Francis gives a thought to dragging him over to his and Gil's apartment before just shrugging it off. The Spaniard sleeps in Lovino's room more often than not, so there wouldn't really be a point in moving him. Less work for him then, Francis guesses.

Gilbert, thankfully, goes quiet (well, muted) as he drags himself to the bathroom again, leaving Francis with only the virtual pet he holds as company. Putting the pet down (making a point out of ignoring all cries it emits) the Frenchman fixes himself into a more comfortable position so he could sleep.

* * *

Lovino eventually comes home after getting freed from the elevator by some firefighters. He and Lars had managed to watch about five episodes of OUAT while they were trapped, before Lars had eventually dozed off. The Italian couldn't deny that the little Dutch toddler was cute when he was asleep; after all, who can say that a sleeping toddler who cuddles with a Miffy doll and sucks his thumb can be anything but adorable?

Just goes to show that being trapped in a c*appy apartment building elevator can show you different sides of people.

The firefighters had apologized numerous times for the lateness of their arrival, but Lovino had just shrugged them off. Any other day, he would had been raving and ranting, most likely cussing like a sailor, but today he was just tired. He knew there would be, at least, three idiots in his apartment when he got home or those same three idiots would've left his place a mess (if Ludwig hadn't cleaned it up. Gilbert was probably too drunk to care at the moment.) So, Lovino rushed off to his apartment, discreetly making sure Lars was safe with the woman who had come to claim him (He couldn't remember her name, exactly: Was it Emma or Bella? He had no clue) before going up the stairs.

His apartment isn't locked when he finally comes to a stop in front of it. Lovino takes in a deep breath before pushing open the door, pleasantly surprised to see that most of the small living space is as he left it, maybe a little cleaner. Though, there are three things that aren't supposed to be there: A drunk Spaniard passed out on his kitchen floor, an equally wasted self-proclaimed Prussian (who is probably clinging to his toilet) shouting about something from the bathroom, and one Frenchman snoozing on his couch.

So, he does have to do something after all.

Although the Italian had really just wanted to do was take a hot shower and go to bed, he guesses that he wasn't supposed to have those luxuries at this moment in time. So, Lovino knows that he can just settle for having a cup of coffee for now and he has to prepare some aspirin for Gilbert and Antonio when they eventually wake up...

Walking over to the kitchen, maneuvering skillfully around Antonio's snoring form, and taking the bottle aspirin from the closest cupboard, Lovino sighs.

Just like every other Wednesday, he supposes.


	3. Episode 2: In Which There Are Pets

**A/N: I swear that the next update won't be so delayed! My school year is almost over and my family is getting ready to move, so there hasn't been much time for me to write. I'm back now though, with some family fluff and important details!**

 **I hope you all enjoy the third episode of** ** _Life_** **!**

* * *

 _Episode Two: In Which There Are Pets_

 _A dog. A TV dinner. A discussion of brothers. And...a severe lack of Francis Bonnefoy._

* * *

It all starts with a television.

To be specific, it all starts with _Lovino's_ television. Ever since their introduction to the apartment it seems that Lovino's place is now their secondary "hang-out" spot, because it actually isn't utter crap. Meaning that he actually has good, "quality" channels and not the barely understandable stuff that plays in Francis' place.

Anyway, they all quickly discover that Gilbert and Ludwig must have never gotten to experience the joys of cable television when they were growing up, (they mentioned something about living on a farm for most of their lives and their grandfather being a complete cheapskate) so that meant that they were practically glued to the thing once it was powered up. Gilbert likes bugging Francis by constantly switching between BBC news and the Weather Channel, although he does complain about both being boring himself, while Ludwig either goes onto the stupid kid ones (like Cartoon Network) or Animal Planet.

That latter station is the next phase for the disaster. Actually, it's the puppy shows _on_ Animal Planet.

Dogs 10- _f*cking_ -1 is an awful demon. No one can tell Lovino otherwise. Seriously, a day-long _marathon?!_ Yeah, the Italian can admit that puppies are kind of cute (although he prefers cats) and dogs are relatively okay, but...who could really handle twenty-four hours straight of information regarding them? Apparently, one child named Ludwig Beilschmidt.

It would be a lie to say that Lovino wasn't surprised when he came into his apartment after a day at work, just to see a pair of blue sock-covered feet dangling over the headrest of his couch, their owner transfixed to the cute, bouncy Pomeranians prancing across the screen. When asked about how long he had been there, Ludwig just muttered a quick "since you left" and said nothing more. That wouldn't have been a problem...if Lovino hadn't left at six o'clock in the morning.

(Yeah, Antonio would be getting an earful about _that_ as soon as Lovino saw him next.)

Still, the kid would probably have to be pried away from the television with a crowbar, so Lovino had decided to be nice to the potato bastard's brother for the moment.

It had been hours later when the back-to-back torture ended. Ludwig had slipped off the couch like a ragdoll as soon as the show changed to _Weird, True and Freaky_ , his legs folded over his head to make him contort into a triangle. Lovino had been woken up (he had fallen asleep when an episode started to talk about German Sheppard's or some other big dog...) by the blonde's exclamation of "That's all I needed to know!" followed by the door slamming behind a running Ludwig.

At the time, Lovino hadn't really cared. Ludwig was a teenager, he could handle himself. And, if he actually did do something stupid, that would be Gilbert's problem.

So, unknowledgeable to what was going to happen, the Italian lays down on the couch (really, it's more comfortable than his apartment's lumpy bed) and falls back to sleep.

* * *

Gilbert is in the middle of cleaning the floor apartment thirteen with a broom (vacuum broke last year, he still hasn't gotten hopeful enough that it won't break to buy a new one) when Ludwig comes in, holding a fairly large white box and rushing into his room with the expression of a drug smuggler. It isn't the expression that gets the albino's attention, but the distinctive sound of whining that emanates from the box.

Oh. _Hell._ No.

"No animals, Lud." Gilbert instantly says, pointing his broom at his frozen little brother like a sword, challenging him to take _one more step._

Ludwig turns around as soon as his muscles relax, his shoulders slumping as the puppy in the box shuffles around. The younger brother's lips form into a _very_ uncharacteristic pout, his eyes growing into wide blue pools. "But Gil..." At the sound of The Voice, Gilbert almost crumbles. That unbearably-cute-yet-bratty "but why?" voice had always been Ludwig's secret weapon in getting what he wanted from the albino, but Gilbert takes a deep breath this time and promises himself to be strong.

"Don't you even dare, you little conniving _Maus._ " Ludwig huffs at the persecution, but Gilbert can see that the younger boy knows it's the truth. "I don't remember saying you could get a dog. Do you even know if this building accepts animals?"

It takes a second and, as soon as Gilbert thinks he had Ludwig in a corner, the boy responds, "Mister and Miss Edelstein have a cat named Crescendo." He says matter-of-factly and the albino holding the broom narrows his eyes, like Ludwig said the worst cuss word in the world.

"Do not mention those names in my damn lobby." He huffs, unable to continue on a rant of some sort as Antonio skips in, sporting both his normal smile and a bright red hand-shaped mark on his face. Ah, so he had gone to see Lovino.

Big blue eyes instantly turn to the Spaniard, who takes very quick notice of the box, "Mom,"—nobody has any idea where _that nickname_ came from, but no one questions it. There is no room for questioning anything anymore—"can I keep Aster?"

Antonio walks over, green eyes big, and takes off the box's top to peer inside. He squeals instantly. The puppy in the box seems to have just opened its eyes for the first time, squinting at the Spaniard with grey pools that match perfectly with her blonde coat. "Aw~ How cute!" He sounds like he's going to say yes, but Gilbert scowls as soon as Antonio looks at him. The Spaniard starts frowning.

When Ludwig looks at him, the albino is shaking his head, arms crossed resolutely over his chest like he has all the authority in the world. (Well, he _is_ the original owner of the apartment...) "No matter how cute it is, we have to give it up." He sighs, walking over to stand by his brother and friend. The puppy yawns as soon as it lays eyes on Gilbert, and the stern face he slapped on to make his point falters.

Damn it. It _is_ super cute.

"It's mine." Ludwig says after a minute of Gilbert staring into the box. His face is dark, stormy. _Protective._ "Aster is mine, I bought her with _my_ money! You can't make me give her up!" His voice cracks a few times as he raises his volume, but no one laughs like what they normally would do. Ludwig stomps off to the room he shares with Gilbert and slams the door, leaving the two older men in silence.

A tantrum, albeit a minor one. Gilbert doesn't remember the last time Ludwig has had one of these on a larger scale, nor does he want to.

Finally, after a few minutes of tense silence, Gilbert moves towards the door and Antonio follows up by asking where he's going. "To find out where that dog came from." Is all he gets in way of an answer, before the door clicks shut.

* * *

While Ludwig sulks in Gilbert's room, filling the entire apartment with bad vibes, Antonio ends up in Lovino's apartment. Lovino must have gone grocery shopping, because his shopping list (which is usually taped to the refrigerator door) is gone and he isn't sleeping on the couch. So, Antonio walks into the room and claims that very piece of furniture as his own. He isn't worried about being slapped again, he knows that Lovino wouldn't do that. Green eyes close as their owner falls asleep.

Antonio is known as the one with the weirdest sleeping positions. There's evidence of this fact. Since, when Lovino walks into his apartment, Antonio has somehow managed to have his legs on the ground while his back is on the couch, one arm on and one arm off. It doesn't look comfortable, but the Italian decides not to wake his Spanish pain-in-the-ass right now.

It takes an hour for Antonio to actually wake up, finding Lovino in the kitchen putting away his groceries (because he was too lazy to do it as soon as he got home. But no one needs to know that. Shush.) So, the brunette walks over and grabs the one bag that's still on the counter, taking stuff out to examine it. "A TV dinner?" He asks in a happy chirp, looking at Lovino and tilting his head.

The Italian doesn't even jump at Antonio's sudden comment, he just looks over his shoulder with that familiar glare. "Yeah, a TV dinner." He huffs, standing up from his crouch at the crisper and stomping over to snatch the frozen food from his "friend" so he can throw it into the freezer.

"I thought you hated that kind of stuff."

Irritated eyes roll in their sockets as Lovino slams the freezer door closed. "I still do, but I won't have time to actually make something on Wednesday night." He shrugs, grabbing some cans of diced tomatoes and putting them in his cupboard.

"What's happening Wednesday?" Antonio smiles, teeth white and perfectly straight, tilting his head to the side. Normally, he wouldn't be trying to get specific details from his friends, but...He thinks Lovino is...well, interesting. And, though it might sound odd, he always wants to know more about the mysterious Italian firecracker that is Lovino Vargas.

"My younger brother is visiting. Well, more like moving here for awhile. _Nonno_ wants him to 'branch out a bit.'" The last bit of the sentence is mocking, Lovino making a very sassy pose as he does the necessary air quotations. Antonio finds himself laughing. Lovino can be funnier then he thinks.

"Do you think I could meet him? I want to see the person _mi pequeño tomate_ calls brother." The Spaniard closes his eyes, morphing his toothy grin into a closed-mouth smile.

Lovino snorts, tossing a loaf of bread at Antonio's face with a smirk. "Stop smiling like a f*cking kindergarten teacher and I'll consider bringing you. Now, make your tomato-loving ass useful and put that bread away." He almost turns away, before the nickname that Antonio just gave to him registers. Lovino turns bright red, spinning on a heel to the refrigerator so he can frantically rearrange stuff. "Also, don't call me that."

"Why not~?" Antonio sings, putting the bread in the bread box after unwrapping it. "You always have red cheeks, they make you look like a little tomato!" He giggles, holding off on the comment brewing in his head about how that is what the Italian looks like now.

Ah, yes. Lovino Vargas is a perfect mystery to him, but Antonio won't rest until he knows the gist of what goes on inside of his head.

* * *

When Gilbert comes back home, he's holding a pamphlet for one of the only pet shops in their area: _Happy Paws and Claws Pet Sanctuary._ The name is cheesy, but the place was pretty nice, compared to the places he had been to in the past.

Ludwig is still in their room. Gilbert doesn't doubt that his brother is playing with Aster as he knocks on the door, gently. He knows that Ludwig needs time; although his tantrums aren't extremely common, but Gilbert has dealt with his fair share of them in the years he had been Ludwig's unofficial caretaker. He knows the ins and outs of dealing with an upset Ludwig. The blonde needs a gentle approach, not shouting or demanding.

There's no answer from inside of the room.

"Lud, I'm just gonna get right to the point. I know you miss home." Gilbert starts, leaning again the door and crossing his arms across his chest. There's no other reason Ludwig would react in such a devastated way. "I miss it to, but you don't see me going out and buying a bunch of chickens, do you?" He laughs, thinking about the silly puffballs that he had raised back at their grandfather's farm while Ludwig had played with the old man's floppy-eared hunting hounds.

Ludwig is still giving him the silent treatment from within the room.

"Anyway." Gilbert waves a hand, like he's brushing off the fond memories. "We just can't have a dog, West. They take up too much space. I wish we could keep her; I wish we could get some chicks and some ducks and, hell, maybe even adopt that old mutt that you loved and I hated, but we can't. The farm's gone, we're in the city, and we have to cope like men. So, come out of the room and I'll make us some hot chocolate; we'll return the dog in the morning. That's final."

The albino barely pulls away from the door when it opens, revealing a narrowed-eyed Ludwig clutching a sleeping Aster to his chest like she's a toy. "Will the hot chocolate have whipped cream?" He finally asks. He sounds upset and unwilling, but it's clear that he knows that (somehow, someway) Gilbert will manage to get Aster back to where she started. With or without his approval.

"Whipped cream, cinnamon, chocolate syrup; the works." Gilbert grins, watching as Ludwig steps out of the room, lured out by the offer. The teenager is wearing his favorite baggy, silky pajamas, which Gilbert had gotten him for Christmas years ago in about ten sizes too big. Really, they're still to big. But Ludwig looks adorable, consumed by all the fabric.

Ludwig looks down at Aster, sadly, but he nods anyway. "Okay."

"That's my West!" Gilbert says, hugging his brother (being careful not to squish the puppy in between them) before walking into the kitchen to prepare their sugary drinks. "Milk or water? Oh, wait, never mind; I forgot the milk spoiled earlier today..." The albino makes a disgusted face, remembering his rude awakening earlier in the day when he had drank from the carton while half asleep.

He shudders. Never again.

Ludwig laughs. It's soft, but it's there, and that's all the older German needs. Gilbert gives his brother a lopsided grin and ruffles his hair. "It won't be so bad. After all, we have Toni, and he's kind of like a puppy."

* * *

It's around five thirty in the morning when Gilbert is called into work. It takes him a minute to realize that today is also the day that he said that he and Ludwig would return Aster. So, he drags Antonio out of bed (the Spaniard had been banned from Lovino's apartment as "punishment" for letting Ludwig in without permission) to give the brunette the mission as he's tugging on his favorite rusty-red jacket.

"Take Ludwig to that _Paws and Claws_ place." Gilbert tells his bleary-eyed friend as he zips-up his pants. "He'll probably be pissed at me, since I said _we_ would go, but just say that work called me in early. He'll tolerate that." Red eyes look at Antonio, who's yawning and slumped over where he sits on his mattress. "Understood?"

Antonio gives a delirious smile. He's not really a morning person. " _Sí_ , _comandante._ " He salutes Gilbert, messily, before rubbing his left eye with his other hand and blinking. " _Patas y Garras_..."

Taking the Spanish words for a positive answer (Gilbert knows that _sí_ means yes, but that's all he remembers from his high school Spanish course) Gilbert grabs his wallet, keys and phone, stuffing them all in his pocket as he balances his motorcycle helmet in his hands. "Great! Thanks for agreeing to this, Toni, I'll owe you one...Well, maybe not; I still owe you from that contest..."

The door closes as Gilbert steps through it and Antonio flops back into bed with a snore.

 **-X-**

Antonio is making something that looks like pancakes-gone-wrong when Ludwig shuffles into the kitchen, already wearing some black-colored jeans and a blue collared shirt to combat the brunette's own yoga pants and loose graphic T-shirt. Neither of them speak, not until Antonio had both served them both a plate ("Francis just taught me to make these! They're crepes!...I think I messed up, though.") and they're halfway through the meal.

"I'm taking you to bring Aster back." Antonio states, holding his fork up to his mouth as Ludwig is taking a sip of his orange juice. "Before you get upset, Gil was called into his work by...someone, probably his boss, super early today." The piece of crepe he has stabbed onto his fork touches his tongue just as Ludwig gives a nonchalant shrug.

"That's fine."

Green eyes look at the boy's face. Antonio might not be able to read the atmosphere sometimes, but he knows how to read _people_. And Ludwig's expression says that it's definitely not fine. They lapse into silence again.

"Look," Antonio sighs finally sighs when they finish, picking up their plates (Ludwig had finished just seconds before him) and bringing them to the sink, "I know what it's like to have an older brother who skips out on promises. Armando— _mi hermano mayor_ —was never really there for me. Actually, now that I think about it, my Armada that _Puta_ -brows destroyed was the only thing he helped me make..."

Ludwig catches the way that Antonio's voice fades, but the Spaniard recovers so quickly that he is left wondering if he just imagined it. "Anyway, what I'm getting at is that you're lucky to have a brother who loves you! Sure, he might not be here all the time, but he really does care and spends all the time with you he can." Antonio finishes up his impromptu mini-speech and turns the knob for hot water. "Let's let these plates soak while we're out, hm?"

" _Ja._ " Ludwig says, watching Antonio dance around the kitchen, turning off the flickering light above the stove and grabbing his keys, and can't help but to wonder if there's something more to the happy-go-lucky brunette than just his smile.

* * *

It's late when Gilbert gets back. Too late. He feels like he's drunk, but aware at the same time, as he stumbles into the apartment. He hears two pairs—wait, no; not two pairs, _three._ Furrowing his eyebrows, Gilbert huffs and flicks on the light. He's wide awake now, and ready to tell Antonio off for not getting rid of the dog. Still, he shouldn't pin all the blame on Antonio; after all, the brunette was still two-thirds of the way asleep when Gilbert had given him his "mission."

Though, as soon as Gilbert takes a breath to rant, his voice catches in his throat. Antonio, Ludwig and Aster are all on the floor; Antonio's splayed out like a starfish, Ludwig's arms are wrapped around Antonio's neck, like a little kid, and Aster sleeps soundly on the Spaniard's chest. If Gilbert didn't know any better, he'd say that he'd walked in on a pair of brothers sleeping after a long day of playing together...

Gilbert shakes his head with a sigh, rubbing his eyes and trudging to his room after turning off the light. It seems that both Ludwig and Antonio were against him for the dog leaving, so he would just have to live with it.

Stripping down to his boxers and changing into his pajamas, Gilbert doesn't really notice the little cage-shaped lump of fabric sitting on his bed until after he sits down. Blinking in confusion, the albino takes the towel off of whatever it's hiding. His jaw drops.

A little yellow bird blinks at him from between golden bars, giving a shrill 'piyo' sound as it ruffles its feathers. A note pokes out of the cage's metal ring, so Gilbert slips it out and unrolls it so he can read.

 _Sorry for not giving Aster back, Gil._

 _The company wouldn't take her and every pound we went to said that the animals not adopted in the time span of a week get put down. I'm telling the truth when I say that both me and Ludwig almost cried..._

 _Anyway, at the last pound they showed us this little chick! Ludwig called it Gilbird, because he was puffing out his little chest and strutting like a peacock, kind of like you!_

 _Hope you can accept our little present._

 _\- Love, Antonio and Ludwig._

...Gilbird? Gilbert looks at the little chick, which (almost like it was queued to do so) puffs out its tiny, yellow feather-covered chest and gives an arrogant cheep. The man smiles.

Gilbird. He likes that.


	4. Episode 3: In Which Everyone Gets Lost

**A/N: Oh, look at that; an update** (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ **And it's on time~! I'm so proud of myself, although I don't think this episode is very good...Oh well ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／I have some fun things planned for the next few episodes! (Hint: You'll be seeing more of everyone's favorite demon child!)**

 **Updates will probably stay pretty constant for the next two months, since I'm going to be off of school for the summer by the time the next update rolls around.**

 **Anyway~ I hope you all enjoy this episode!**

* * *

 _Episode Three: In Which Everyone Gets Lost_

 _Feliciano manages to get lost in the airport. Meanwhile, Lovino and Antonio end up stranded on the other side of New York City._

* * *

Wednesday morning comes faster than Lovino can comprehend. Really, it feels like he fell asleep on Saturday and woke up to see his calendar marked with X's, leading up to the one box that has the all capitals letters spelling out "PICK UP PASTA BRAIN FROM AIRPORT" in blaring red that can be seen clearly from halfway across the room. So, he grumbles and tosses the covers off of himself, shaking off Antonio's arms that have been wrapped around him and smacking the Spaniard with them.

"Come on. Wake up, tomato bastard." Lovino says, standing up and stretching, enjoying the satisfying sound of his spine and arms popping as he does so. God, how he would kill for a back massage or something; work had been getting stressful lately...Maybe he'll just use those vacation days they owe him.

Antonio just responds to Lovino's demand with a sleepy little whine, groping around the side of the bed where the Italian had been like a kid searching for the toy he sleeps with. Finally, after minutes of fruitless searching, a pair of green eyes blinks open. Antonio pouts, "Loooovvvviiii," he whines, rolling over in bed and clutching the fluffy comforter to himself, "bed, please, now."

Ah, broken English; Lovino's old friend.

"No way, you ass." The smaller brunette rolls his eyes, going over to Antonio's side of the bed and grabbing his wrists, attempting to drag him out. "The airport is pretty far, I don't want to be late."

The Spaniard is just whining, not even moving in bed and frustrating Lovino to no end. " _Aeropuerto?_ " He finally asks when Lovino gives up and drops his arms.

" _Sì_ _,_ the airport. Did you seriously forget that we're going to go pick up my brother? It's Wednesday."

That little fact is what wakes Antonio up. It takes a second for the for everything to click in his head, but he practically bounds out of bed and rushes out of the bedroom when they do. It feels like it takes less than a second. "What are we waiting for?!" He exclaims as Lovino hears the apartment door open, " _¡Vamos!_ " The door slams shut.

" _Idiota bastardo!_ " Lovino shouts, almost instantly, running after the Spaniard to rein him back in, "Put some actual clothes on! We can't go with you in _pajamas!_ "

* * *

Feliciano yawns, leaning his head against the airplane window. The flight attendant kept telling him not to do it, something about smudging the glass, but Feliciano can't help himself sometimes. He's always liked flying, even when he was a little kid who was afraid of _everything._ Flying just didn't feel scary. He had always liked how the ground below the plane looks like a painting, and right now it is very pretty. Little blocks of monotone color that must be New York's skyscrapers and the little moving dots that he can barely see that must be people.

Maybe one of those people are Lovi...

The Italian's gentle smile mutates into an excited grin, full of teeth. Feliciano hadn't seen his older brother in _so long,_ even since Grandpa Romulus took Lovino to this very city and dropped him off a few years ago. Feli wondered how much his brother had changed, if he had even changed at all. What would Lovino's job be? Would he have pets, wherever he lived? Oh! Maybe Lovino had found a girlfriend! Or boyfriend, who knows...

Starting to squirm in his seat, Feliciano resists the urge to squeal in excitement. (He doesn't want to wake up the guy sleeping beside him, unlike the little Turkish boy who keeps kicking the back of the man's seat so he could receive an ungiven attention.) Instead, he just keeps looking out the window. Everything is so _so_ tiny, he can't help but to feel like a giant.

It doesn't take long for the announcement of landing to come on and Feliciano finally pokes the guy beside him awake so the man can buckle his seatbelt. When his bright green eyes flutter open, he yawns and his head bobs as he straps himself in, like he's resisting sleep. Feliciano can't help but to wonder how the man can _still be tired_ after sleeping for the whole duration of their long flight.

They, somehow, fall into a conversation as the plane hits the runway; Feliciano knows that it's about all kinds of cats and that the brunette talks _very_ slowly, but the Italian doesn't care. He's just happy for some interaction after a long trip without it (really, as soon as the long-haired brunette had sat down, he had been asleep for the whole flight...).

After they stand up, the little Turkish boy from before runs over and grabs the man's hand. All three of them are walking out of the plane when the sleepy guy finally introduces himself as Herakles. It turns out that the little brat who had been kicking his seat is his step-brother, Taner. When Feliciano asks why they're in the Big Apple, Herakles explains that they're both going to see a man named Sadik, who is Taner's own half-brother, for the summer.

When Herakles asks the same question, Feliciano gives a happy chirp that he's going to go see his own older brother, who he hasn't seen in a long time. Herakles gives him a slow smile (if Feliciano is being honest, almost everything that the Greek does feels like he's going in slow motion) before Taner attempts to tug him over to a man in a long, green over coat and a white mask that reminds Feliciano of _Phantom of the Opera._

So, that must be Sadik. He looks kind of scary.

Herakles wishes Feliciano good luck and hands the Italian a white slip of paper, telling him to call that number anytime he might need some help around New York. Feliciano can't help but to wonder if that's some kind of weird type of flirting when he opens the paper to find Herakles' cell phone number. Honestly, Feliciano can't tell the line between just being friendly and being flirty. Yeah, Romulus (the man who had taught him all about love) never really distinguished the difference between them.

The Italian tucks the paper into the side pocket of his rolling suitcase anyway, thinking it would be a good a idea to have someone, who might know a bit more about New York than what he can find on Google Maps, as a contact.

Golden eyes scan the crowd, trying to find a sign with his name on it. All around him, people are hugging and crying and chatting, trying to catch up and share funny stories from wherever they had been, but Feliciano is the only one standing there without a relative to squish him and smother him. Not that Lovino would do that anyway, but he can dream, can't he?

Finally, after a half an hour of just standing there like an idiot, Feliciano finally decides to head over to the airport's café and take a chair. Had Lovino forgotten? Maybe Feliciano should call him and remind him...

No. Feliciano shakes his head, the signature Vargas family curl (because their genetics somehow defied gravity and let that single strand of hair stay stubbornly up) swaying as he did so. Lovino wouldn't forget about him; though they had never really been close as children, Feliciano knows that Lovino would never abandon him, Accidently or otherwise. Plus, Feliciano's phone had died while he had been playing Candy Crush back in the airport in Italy, so he wouldn't really be calling anyone until it was charged up...

Sighing and bending over to his bag, Feliciano unzips one of the smaller pockets and extracts both his phone and it's charger. He looks around the café for an outlet, but _every single one_ is already occupied by some little kid with their 3DS charging or some sleepy-eyed businessman trying to finish up a report on his dying laptop.

Crinkling his nose, Feliciano pouts a bit before standing up and grabbing his bag, pushing down the handle so he can fling it onto his back more comfortably. Fine, if there were no outlets, Feliciano would go on a grand quest for one! The airport wasn't a very big one, so it couldn't be very hard.

Really, what could go wrong?

* * *

"For the last time, Antonio, I'm not lost, dammit."

Antonio frowns, squinting at the screen of his phone, watching as the little blue blip on the screen (which was supposedly them) sped away from the red marker that was their destination. "But, the airport is that way..." Pointing a thumb over the back of his seat, Antonio looks at Lovino with furrowed eyebrows. The Italian was dressed in a nice pair of slacks and a crisp white button-up, making Antonio feel under-dressed. Really, everyone in their little makeshift family (even Gilbert) made Antonio feel under-dressed, since the brunette's usual outfit usually consisted of some stretchy yoga pants and a t-shirt with something funny or cute on it.

Anyway, Antonio would hate for that nice outfit to go to waste, but Lovino stubbornly refuses to listen and eventually just turns up the radio station they have on to full blast, leaving the Spaniard to pout and stare at the map on his phone.

Soon enough, his phone dies and, since Lovino doesn't have a car charger, Antonio starts to sing along to the song on the radio out of pure boredom. It's a really nice country song, though, so Antonio just has fun with it; complete with outrageous little movements that could pass for some sort of acting. " _She could hear those church bells ringing, ringing~ Standing there in a black dress singing, singing~! Fold your hands and close yo-_ woah!" Antonio jerked forwards, the breath catching in his throat as Lovino spun the wheel in what was _definitely_ an illegal U-turn.

"You okay, Lovi?" Antonio asked, blinking at his companion.

Instead of answering, Lovino just takes one hand off of the wheel and points to the glove box that is in front of Antonio, "Make yourself useful and get the roadmap out from there." Lovino grunts, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of rosy pink as he does so.

Antonio complies, happily, humming the beginning notes of the new song that's playing as he shuffles through all the papers in the glove box. When he finally finds the map, he almost rips it while trying to unfold it. It's old and well-used, and it makes Antonio feels like a little kid again with the map in his hands; he remembers when he was younger, just a boy who was obsessed with adventure and buried treasure, so much so that he "borrowed" all of his mother's nice jewelry so he could bury it and dig it up again.

The map is old and wrinkled, with the nostalgically familiar texture of the crumpled lined paper Antonio had used to make his own "treasure maps." He had forgotten how much he loved the feeling of worn paper tickling his fingertips. The map is huge when Antonio unfolds it, basically blocking his entire view of the outside world; the text is huge to, so it was probably used by someone with bad eyesight.

While Antonio busies himself with the map, Lovino cusses out the other drivers on the road as the honk and shout at him. He's the only one driving _normally_ here, though many would disagree; but their opinions on this aren't valid because Lovino honestly has no more f-cks to give about the way people criticize his driving skills. He's the best driver in his family, without a single ticket or accident to his name, and he's going to keep it that way.

" _If there's a place you got to go~ I'm the one you need to know~ I'm the Map! I'm the Map! I'm the Ma-_ "

"Antonio. If you don't stop singing that f-cking song, _r_ _ight now_ , I swear to all that is holy I will crash this car into a tree."

* * *

How you get lost in an airport, Feliciano has no idea, but he swears that he has passed that potted plant before. The Italian frowns, freezing in his tracks and feeling like an idiot as he stands in the middle of an airport hall, trying to find a place to charge his phone.

Really, he's given up on finding an outlet at this point; it would be easier to find a payphone...

Anyway, he could find a security guard or someone to lead him in the right direction or something. If he could find one; there's basically no one in this hall. Sighing, Feliciano turns around and tries to backtrack. He'll eventually he his way to the front of the airport again, he tells himself. Well, probably. He's not going to get his hopes up just yet.

[X*X]

Feliciano had gotten turned around five times, stuck in a few elevators, and accidently tripped onto a cart full of unclaimed luggage (sending it careening down the hallway with a cursing airport employee chasing after it as he flipped Feliciano off) before he finally manages to get to the area of the airport with all the chairs. When he finally collapses into one of the kind-of-comfy chairs, the giant red digital clock reads 2:54 and Feliciano can't help but to wonder why Lovino _s_ _till isn't here yet._

After all, Feliciano had left the confines of the plane at 12:13.

The younger Italian's question is answered when he hears a very loud, _very_ distinctive voice cussing up a storm in Italian. When Feliciano looks back, he sees his "twin" (an old running joke that their family has, since Lovino is shorter than Feliciano and doesn't look the role of older brother) struggling in the hold of some airport security with another man laughing at his side.

Without thinking, Feliciano jumps up and jogs over, ignoring the shouts of the security as he pounces on his brother and rubs their faces together in excitement. When he pulls away, he grins so widely it looks like his face is trying to split in half. _"Grande fratello, è stato troppo lungo!"_ Feliciano squeals, hugging his brother again.

" _Idiota, abbiamo Skyped_."

" _Sì, ma quello non conta!_ " Feliciano whines, before one of the younger security officers taps him on the shoulder. Feliciano looks at the man with curious eyes.

"Uh, sorry to break this family moment up, but you're still going to have to leave."

* * *

The car ride back to the apartment complex where Lovino and Antonio (So _that_ was the brunette's name! Feliciano found himself thinking) was silent, except for the Disney CD Antonio eventually popped into the player halfway through their travels. When he finally gets sick of the Spaniard replaying "You Got A Friend In Me" in a torturous loop, Lovino turns off the player and explains why they had been kicked out of the airport.

It turns out that, after they had backtracked from the other end of New York due to Antonio's flawed map-reading skills, the smiley brunette had just decided that it would be fun to ride on the luggage conveyor belt while Lovino asked around from Feliciano's whereabouts. Lovino had been dragged in there to, causing the very angry Italian and the laughing Spaniard that Feliciano had seen.

After calming down from the laughing fit that the story brought upon him, Feliciano can't help but to think that, if Lovino had made friends with a guy like _Antonio_ , then he was going to like the rest of Lovino's little group.

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _Grande fratello, è stato troppo lungo! - Big brother, it's been too long!_

 _Idiota, abbiamo Skyped. - Idiot, we Skyped._

 _Sì, ma quello non conta! - Yes, but that doesn't count!_


	5. Episode 4: In Which There Are Pool Days

**|A/N| The idea for the Nerf gun fight in this episode was given by guest reviewer _dragonlovewater!_**

 **This is a pretty goofy chapter, but everything won't be sunshine and sparkles forever. Shit's gonna get real soon. It's gonna get real _really soon._ But we still have some more fluff and fun to go through, so enjoy the peace while it lasts.**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoy some more shenanigans. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

 _Episode Four: In Which There Are Pool Days_

 _Francis wants a day at the pool. Ludwig wins everything. And, while Gilbert tries to avoid sunburns, something else goes spectacularly wrong._

* * *

It's only been a few days after Feliciano had come to New York from Italy, but everyone was already used to him being in their technical family, more or less. He and Ludwig had already become best friends, with Feliciano treating the teenager like he was a little brother. The original three (Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis) had also become friends with the bubbly Italian. But, despite how smoothly everything is going, Francis still insists on them having some "bonding time" to get to know each other better.

Nobody really gets why Francis acts like _such a stereotypical mother,_ but they're pretty much used to it when Francis comes into the room from the kitchen and shouts a simple: "We are going to the pool!"

Gilbert looks up from his cards and scowls at the Frenchman who is beaming after his sudden exclamation, which had interrupted a _very intense_ game of Go Fish. "Are you kidding me?" The German asks, Gilbird chirping and fluttering around his head like he's been doing ever since Antonio and Ludwig got him for Gilbert, keeping his stare focused on Francis (even as he hears Lovino give an evil laugh when Antonio starts to whine) "Have you _seen me_?"

It's no secret that Gilbert burns like Arthur's cooking in the sun. Everyone (in the original group of four) remembers that fact from the one time the albino had been trapped outside the building (don't ask) and had to stay out there for a whole two thirds of the day, resulting in a very burnt and hurting German who whined _every single time he moved_. Yeah, no one wanted Gilbert to get another sunburn after that hell.

"Don't worry, _mon cher!_ " Francis waves a hand, settling the other on his hip with his face painted with that proud smile. "The first time was only because you didn't have sunscreen! We'll make sure to bring plenty of it now so you don't go as red as a lobster!"

Feliciano snickers, covering his smiling mouth with his cards, probably trying to clear his mind of whatever mental image he had come up with. As his giggles waver out, the youngest Italian puts down his pair of kings and smiles at Francis, opening his eyes for what is the second time since they first met him. "A pool day sounds fun!" His says in his heavily accented English, waving his hands so wildly that he almost smacks Ludwig.

The German boy scoots away from his older friend, looking at Gilbert from across their Go Fish circle with a nonchalant shrug. "You can't hide inside forever, blogging, _Bruder._ " He says, almost mockingly calm, before looking at Feliciano. "Do you have a ten?"

"Awh...yeah!" Feliciano hands Ludwig the requested card, giving the boy another match and a slight advantage on Lovino, who has one less pair of cards than Ludwig.

"I say we go for it. It's nice to get out of the building every now and then." Antonio mutters, shuffling through his cards when Ludwig asks him for an Ace. "Nope, sorry _chico._ Go fish."

Gilbert turns his red-eyed gaze to Lovino, but the Italian just shrugs and rearranges his own cards. "I don't really care either way." Lovino says. Francis smirks in a way that practically yells "majority vote is for the pool," causing Gilbert to groan in defeat and Francis to cheer in excitement.

As the flamboyant French blonde practically _dances_ away from the circle the five other people of the group have made in the middle of Lovino's main apartment area, they finally run out of cards. Everyone else watches as Ludwig and Lovino are left the only two "standing" and are staring each other down (with Gilbert silently betting on his little brother, while Antonio does the same with Lovino).

When Francis walks in again, a phone tucked under his chin as he asks the happy-sounding lady on the other end of the line what time the pool opens on Saturdays, he hears as Lovino starts to spew out angry cusses and Gilbert's cheering. Blue eyes roll in their sockets and Francis' lips quirk upwards in amusement. He had never seen a Go Fish game get grown men just as excited as Poker did. Maybe even more so.

* * *

After his loss during the Go Fish game, Lovino makes a point of not talking to Ludwig (not that he talked to the boy all that much, but still) the whole three-hour-long trip to wherever the hell the pool is. Really, the spitfire brunette doesn't talk to anyone, except to yell at Antonio for choosing a Spanish radio station and turning it up so high that he swears that the car _i_ _s f-cking shaking._

Feliciano and Ludwig occupy themselves with the typical childish games associated with road trips as Lovino threatens to replace Antonio at the wheel (I Spy; Rock, Paper, Scissors; and Cat's Cradle) before they both get bored. When this eventually happens, Feliciano thinks it's funny when he starts to ask the dreaded "are we there yet?" in a exaggeratedly whiny voice, over and over.

Everything just goes downhill from there.

Gilbert decides to get onto the "fun" Feliciano is having by kicking the back of Ludwig's seat, making the teenager shout at him to stop before eventually turning completely around in his seat and taking a few swipes at the older brother. Francis starts to complain about how they shouldn't be "behaving so childishly," but he, himself, dissolves into an immature argument with Gilbert about how mature the German is that eventually turns into a minor slap fight and then into one involving the pulling of hair and full-on smacking.

While the van's (Antonio's car, something he says he had inherited from his parents) backseat occupants are behaving like children, Antonio is humming along to some happy-go-lucky song in his native gibberish while Lovino is trying to rein in his temper...At least until Feliciano asked _that damn question one more time._

"All of you shut up!" Lovino commands, whirling around in his seat and glaring at all four. Everyone goes quiet, frozen in place (something that makes Francis unhappy, since Gilbert is tugging on a lock of his hair) until Lovino nods and turns back to his original position. " _Grazie._ Now, I trust that all of you can act like grown-ass men until we get to the f-cking pool, yeah?"

A chorus of positive feedback fills the car and Antonio can't help but to sneak an impressed look at the Italian in the passenger seat. Lovino just smirks, leaning back into his seat and closing his eyes. "Wake me when we actually get there." Is all the brunette says before he goes quiet, chest rising and falling steadily as sleep claims him.

Antonio can't help but to laugh, softly, at Lovino's clichéd command and the rest of the car ride is spent in silence.

* * *

They arrive at the pool right when everyone who had already been there is already filing out, complaining about the pool being too full while emptying it all at the same time. Feliciano and Ludwig initiate a race to the pool's gate, leaving everyone else grab the stuff: Blankets, towels, pool toys, a cooler and a few other small items.

Gilbert already has a large towel over his head, making him look like a kid on Halloween who just threw together a ghost costume last minute, as he walks to the gate, holding the cooler and rolling it along the amazingly smooth sidewalk. Antonio and Lovino both hold the bags containing all the pool toys, as well as sharing the burden of holding the colorful pool noodles. Francis has everything else, all carried in a colorful bag that he had gotten from Stater Brothers years ago while visiting California.

The pool is almost completely empty by the time they all get into the area, the only people (besides themselves) at the poolside are a group of six men and two little boys, but they're all the way across the fenced-off perimeter of the pool. As soon as they claim their collection of chairs, Gilbert goes rooting through all of their bags to find some sunscreen, prohibiting Ludwig from leaving his side until the boy has some of the protective lotion on his own pale skin.

Antonio decides to say a quick "screw you" to sunscreen and promptly runs to the pool, ignoring the numerous warning signs posted around the area ranting about running and safe diving and blah, blah, blah, making a giant splash with a cannonball. Lovino rolls his eyes, finishing up with spraying some sunscreen onto Feliciano and moving onto himself, before watching Antonio resurface and float around on his back.

"Come on, tomato bastard!" Lovino calls after he finishes, shaking the can in his hands. "You'll burn."

Antonio sinks into the water again, disappearing until Lovino comes right to the edge of the pool. The Italian barely has time to register what's happening before Antonio rockets out of the pool like a trained seal, wrapping his arms around Lovino's waist and dragging him into the water. When the duo resurface, everyone from their group is laughing (as well as three of the men in the other group, who are trying to hide their laughter behind their hands) at Lovino's red face.

"Sorry, Lovi! I couldn't resist." Antonio laughs, floating in the water, his signature smile pasted onto his face. Lovino's face is still red, annoyed and angry, but Antonio doesn't care about that. The Italian is probably just embarrassed, not really _angry_ , per se. Lovino is just Lovino, Antonio knows that, and Lovino has troubles with emotions sometimes.

Lovino gives a small growl, before looking away with an angry huff. "Fine. I'll let you off this time, jerk bastard, but I won't be so easy on you next time, if there is one. Now let me go!" After the angry command, Lovino starts to squirm slightly and Antonio notices that he had been holding onto the Italian for _way too long._

"Eheheh, _scusa_. That's how you say sorry in Italian, right?" Letting go of the Italian like Lovino's torso had burnt him, Antonio gives another laugh, albeit more nervous this time around.

A quick roll of the eyes comes from Lovino, but that's all Antonio gets before the Italian starts to paddle to the shallow end. "Yeah, that's how you say it. Now come on, bastard; let's get some sunscreen on you." The tone is almost partial to him, but with just the right amount of bitterness that Antonio knows Lovino will never willingly admit if the tone was supposed to be fond or not when asked. Still, Antonio follows Lovino orders and climbs out of the pool, getting a towel tossed onto him by Francis so he can dry his hair.

Meanwhile, when Gilbert finally deems the thick layer of sunscreen he slathered onto Ludwig's skin an appropriate amount of safety, the blonde teenager instantly goes for the pool toys, grabbing the only _huge_ water gun (a Super Soaker 300) from the array of similar summertime weapons of Lovino's that had just been kind of sitting in a box. Lovino had told them not to question it and "just get the damn water guns so we can leave," in his own words.

"Water gun war!" Ludwig declares, staring at all the grown-ups with his blue eyes narrowed in challenge.

Feliciano pouts, grabbing two smaller guns (those cheap, colored plastic ones that you could see through) and spinning them around in his hands. "That's not fair! You got the better water gun!" He exclaims, trying and failing to be seriously upset as he gives into laughter, "Fine, though; you're on!"

"Yeah!" Antonio cheers from his place on a white plastic lounge chair, where he's spraying sunscreen onto his palm so it will be easier to apply to his face, "I've always liked water gun fights! I'm in." Antonio rockets up as soon as he finishes applying the liquid-y sunscreen to his cheeks, rushing over to the water guns (somehow not even sliding around on his wet feet) and grabbing a miniature Nerf super soaker.

Lovino rolls his eyes, grabbing a blue pool noodle as he walks back towards the pool's stairs. "Have fun with that," throwing the noodle into the water, Lovino follows and links his arms around the back of it, "as long as you don't splash me I'm fine." Lovino lowers his sunglasses and just floats in the pool with nothing to guide him. At least he looks peaceful.

" _Oui,_ I'll sit this battle out." Francis says, tying his hair up with a scrunchy covered in flower-patterned fabric (which Gilbert says looks like his grandma's wallpaper) and grabbing the glossy cooking magazine he brought with him. "I don't feel like being blasted in the face...Gilbert."

The albino German looks up from syringe-like Water Pump he's currently filling with pool water, giving Francis a pleased smirk and a thumbs-up. "No regrets, Francy, no regrets."

It doesn't take longer than five (well, technically six, but Gilbert likes to say it took less) minutes for all of the water guns to be filled to the brim and checked. Everyone participating in the "Water War" (Gilbert and Ludwig's collaborative name for it) takes their places, waiting with their guns pointed to the gun as Ludwig shouts out rules. "This will be a free-for-all, every man for himself, no teaming up. The last man standing will be the winner."

Everyone nods, showing that they're following so far, and Ludwig continues. "You may be hit," the boy holds up three fingers, "a total of three times before you go down. No more, no less. You can declare pause when your gun runs out of ammunition, but you only have a minute to fill it. Any foul play, such as pushing someone into the pool while they refill their gun, will get you disqualified." Fixing his water gun, Ludwig gets into a proper shooting position, "Now, on the count of three, we'll go...Three...Two...One. Go!"

And everything dissolves into chaos.

Feliciano was, in fact, not the first person out. It is Gilbert, surprisingly, who is the first man to fall on the watery battlefield. Antonio gets the albino twice in the chest, while Ludwig takes his brother down with a well-aimed shot to the right arm after Gilbert shoots Feliciano once. Feliciano is next, getting shot by Antonio and Ludwig at the same time. As he skips ( _actually skips_ ) away, one of the men from the other side of the pool decides to cheer Ludwig on while the only red-head of their group starts to cheer for Antonio.

Despite the first two "causalities" being very quick and easy, Antonio and Ludwig both refuse to go down without a fight. The boogie boards that Feliciano had insisted on bringing—for whatever reason—are being used as shields and anyone who dares get into the crossfire will not be shown mercy; they're too far into it. Everyone eventually loses their interest as the war drags past the thirty minute mark, going on to do their own things, but Gilbert keeps cheering for Ludwig to win very enthusiastically.

Lovino's still floating like a corpse in the water, the steadiness of his breaths alerting everyone that he's not actually dead, just sleeping (how he's able to sleep in the water without flipping over, they have no idea) and, when the Italian hits the side of the pool that's right by the bars that cast shadows over his skin, Gilbert can't help but to wonder how _that_ tan will look like.

The answer to that question comes another half-hour later. Antonio finally loses when Ludwig shoots him after he's expended the time limit for filling up his water gun and doesn't get into the fight quick enough. Lovino awakens to the sound of a Spaniard getting pushed into the pool by Francis and Gilbert as a "punishment" for losing, the waves flipping Lovino over because Antonio fell into the pool _right next to him._

When they both come back up, Lovino tries to lecture Antonio around chokes and sputters, but the taller brunette just snorts and slaps a hand over his mouth, pointing a Lovino's face with joyous eyes.

Of course, there's no mirror for the Italian to use, but he can grasp the gist of what happened to his face after he sees what's imprinted on his torso, legs and arms. "...Well, shit." Is all he mutters, holding out an arm that's marred with stripes of darker and lighter skin that run down his flesh like zebra stripes.

"It looks like I just walked out of a f-cking prison!" Lovino eventually yells after a few more minutes of quiet examination, eyes flaming as Antonio collapses into laughter, everyone else not too far behind. Even Ludwig is snickering, a sound that grows louder when Gilbert gives the offhand comment of "at least it's not me," the water gun that allowed him to win their War being held in a limp grasp.

Lovino turns around when he notices his brother call him, but he knows that's a stupid decision when he hears Feliciano take a picture from his place at the poolside. (Damn those stupid water-proof phones.) There's no doubt in the older brother's mind that Feliciano is already sending it to Grandpa Romulus, who will show it to Angelo, who will show it to his boyfriend or whatever the f-ck that Aurel kid is to him. And who knows where else that picture could end up.

Great. Just _great._

* * *

Lovino is not happy for the rest of the week, not until the odd tan all across the front of his body becomes a little less noticeable. Even then he's still a little pissy, because Feliciano had actually sent it to, not only everyone in their actual family, but to everyone on the floor they live in. Antonio really made it his f-cking _lock screen_ for half the week until Lovino saw it and threatened to strangle the taller brunette with his own phone charger if he didn't change it.

Antonio smartly changes his lock screen picture from the zebra-striped Lovino to a one of some tropical birds with markings that, when put together, make a magenta heart.

There's no hesitation when he does it either, he even deletes the picture entirely. He's afraid of making Lovino _too_ angry, because there's no telling what the Italian is actually feeling when his face grows red like a tomato and he spews multilingual curses out of his mouth like how Old Faithful sprays water. He could be humiliated or hurt when that angry face takes over his expression, and Antonio doesn't want that.

He just wants his friends happy. That's just who Antonio is; the one who wants everyone _happy_.


End file.
